


Set Your Burden Down

by DustToDust



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, First Time, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killing Meredith is not an action to take lightly, and Hawke knows the consequences are going to be severe. She just doesn't want to think about them for one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Your Burden Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepottermalfoyproblem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepottermalfoyproblem/gifts).



> After a harrowing event Hawke and Varric tumble into bed to assure themselves they're still alive. Now, how could I pass up that delicious prompt? ;) For my wonderful prompter [ThePotterMalfoyProblem](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thepottermalfoyproblem/pseuds/thepottermalfoyproblem).

Varric tastes like flat ale and stamina potions when Marian kisses him. A revolting combination she can't be arsed enough to pull away from as she tangles her fingers in the stiff embroidery of his jacket.

There's a reason why they don't do this. Several in fact, and every single one of them is a damn good and compelling argument all on its own. Taken all together they're enough to have kept them from doing this years ago.

It's just that none of those reasons sound quite so compelling anymore as Marian desperately pushes Varric onto her bed. His words muffled by her lips, and his tongue stilled by her teeth as she silently demands this one night from him. One night free from those reasons and the arguments they've both silently made against it.

The smell of his dried sweat is acrid and still thick with the tinge of fear and desperation they'd all felt as Meredith refused to go down under their attacks. The Knight-Commander taking everything they could throw at her with little more than a grunt and her delusional ravings. Before that damned red lyrium gave her more power than any one person should rightly have. The weight of going against her is heavy on Marian now even with the madness that had clearly been in Meredith's eyes for all to see.

The implications of their actions weigh hard on Marian's shoulders and only the calloused fingers of Varric's hands pushing back the torn layers of her clothing eases it. The way he presses in to take what he clearly wants from the kiss makes her forget a bit. Every touch and kiss something that lightens it, and pulls her mind away from the numb realization of what's been done. Turning it to more pleasurable things if only for the moment.

"Hawke. _Marian_ ," Varric says her name like a prayer when she pulls back for a breath. His silver tongue has always treated every letter of her first name with care before. The thing that's between them unspoken and unacknowledged except in the space of her name so there's no change to be heard. Which is why he so rarely uses it.

"Varric," Marian answers with less skill, but she's never really had the same way with subtle words that he does. Actions and boasts have always been her specialty and she doesn't hesitate to use her gift as she frees his hair from its tie and buries her fingers in it. Dried blood flakes off from the strands in places, and Marian can feel the sting where her knuckles have split open catch on the fine hairs. The pain is minor compared to the remembered fear when Varric went down hard near the end of the battle. Bone white visible through his scalp before Anders --glowing blue and shifting from man to spirit too fast to follow-- had intervened.

Varric's own hands have stopped removing her clothing and rest low on her abdomen. Fingers pressed against a dried and mostly gone streak of blood where a Templar's sword had tried to carve her in two before she could escape into the shadows. She can see the memory of it pass through his eyes in a flash. He presses a hard kiss to her chest, between her freed breasts, and Marian can feel the trembling in him that echoes her own at the realization that had destroyed years of careful avoidance.

They'd come so close today. So very, very close to losing each other.

This thing, this attraction has been there for years. Started sometime between Marian's purse being snatched and rescuing an escaped slave from slavers. It was cemented somewhere in the darkness of the Deep Roads as she struggled to drag her dying sister along to Anders' promised cure as Varric told stories to keep Bethany laughing. It's been the backdrop to their years of friendship. A possibility that they'd both agreed --silently, and with only one speaking look-- to never explore.

Reasons. There'd always been so many good reasons for why they shouldn't before.

_Before_.

Before the Chantry, before the slaughter that followed, before madness seemed to take over the whole world.

Marian runs her fingers through the impossibly soft strands of Varric's hair as he kisses her chest. Lips dragging across her skin as one hand presses against her back to pull her closer. His other hand cupping her right breast as he opens his mouth over the nipple enough to suck at it. Lightly, with a teasing brush of tongue that makes Marian arch her back and _moan_ at the shocky bolts of pleasure it gives her.

"Shit," Varric pulls away enough to mutter, and she loses the shirt tied only loosely on her to his hands. Leaving her bare from the waist up. A tragedy considering Varric's still in that damnably lose jacket and shirt he wears. "Listening to you moan always gets me hard enough to break doors."

"You shouldn't have listened in at the Rose then," Marian laughs and pulls away enough to reach for the belt holding the shirt in a far too decently closed position. Varric's chest is broad and strong as she drags her hands up it. Careful not to tug too hard on the thick curls of his chest hair before she moves her hands to push the cloth down his well-muscled arms.

"The walls're thin as paper there, Hawke," Varric smirks and moves Marian up and off his lap. Hampered only a little by the sleeves pushed halfway down his arms. She pouts, but it disappears when Varric uses the space gained to pull it off all the way before leaning down to go for his boots. "You know I can't help hearing it when you start yowling like a cat in heat."

He's right, the walls are ridiculously thin for a brothel. Of course her voice would carry. She's used those thins walls to her own advantage more than a few times after all. Just because they'd agreed to do nothing didn't mean Marian hadn't shamelessly eavesdropped on Varric taking a whore or two, and used the resulting noises as fodder for her own imagination. Neither of them could be considered saintly after all.

"I just wanted to make sure you heard me," Marian takes advantage of the space herself. Sliding off the bed to work on the armored boots she hadn't removed earlier with the rest of her armor, and her belts with their volatile vials of various poisons. A tricky business that should be handled with care before they lose too much more of their minds to lust. Varric's eyes follow her with interest that doesn't help as she slides her trousers down, and Marian stretches maybe a bit more than necessary stripping off her smallclothes.

Maybe, the state of Varric's body shows that her little show isn't unappreciated, and it always does a woman good to know she's having an effect.

"I always hear you," Varric says, and the tone is off. Too soft and distant, and his eyes aren't quite looking at her anymore. Marian realizes the mistake immediately.

Too much distance, too much freedom to _think_ and remember which is what they've been trying to avoid here. Varric always did think too much, and it's always been Marian's job to egg him into being a little more brash. A calculated risk was still calculated, and sometimes the best payoffs came when no thought at all was put to it.

"I'd rather someone else hear us right now," Marian moves back to the bed and carefully takes the pouch laden belt he'd been removing before his mind took a darker turn. Careful because while her bag of tricks might be dicey, the things he carries around are downright deadly. She takes Varric's smallclothes with the pants in a single smooth pull that she learned at the Rose before climbing back up on the bed. Stretching out to hover over him, and arching her back so that her breasts remain prominently in sight. "Repeatedly through the night preferably."

Varric plays along without much more incentive. Pulling her down against him, and the fit of their bodies is not perfect but she can feel the unmistakable surging of his interested cock pressing against her. The dwarf smirks up at her. Cocky and confident, the darkness of his eyes gone as he allows himself to be pushed away from thought. "Careful, Rivani might feel the need to compete."

Marian lets herself be rolled under Varric, lets her hands wander the hard muscles she's only seen through clothing or bloodied bandages before. She admires the firmness in them as Varric leans down to kiss her properly. Like this he blankets her almost entirely. His weight pressing her down into the thick mattress and keeping her still as his hands hold her still. Leaving only her legs free to come up to wrap around him.

"Hm," Marian groans when Varric pulls back, his eyes dark and flickering down from her lips to where his hands rest on her. Taking in everything between as he straightens up on his knees. The distance is disappointing, except for the way it allows him to slide between her legs. "Let her, Fenris could use a good fuck. But if I can hear her at all over myself I'm going to blame you for it."

"That a challenge?" Varric asks and the way his eyebrow arches up is dangerous. She knows it, but doesn't care in the least as his hands slide down. Under her thighs and lifting her body with insulting ease to position her to his liking.

"A bet," Marian corrects with a smirk even as she follows the line of Varric's calloused fingers with a shiver. Her thighs strain slightly from the new position and there's no denying she's anticipating this. "Ten sovereigns says you can't."

"Just ten? Don't insult me," Varric snorts and Marian gasps as he runs two fingers over her cunt. Thick fingers brushing lightly against her lips before he rubs against her clit. Slow circles, just firm enough to make her arch up for more. "Either way you win, Hawke. Can't really call that a proper bet."

"Insurance then," Marian grins through a moan and reaches down to wrap her fingers around the hard cock she can feel pressing into her leg. Enjoying the way that Varric falters the slightest bit as she feels the weight of him in her hand. The soft skin of him sliding through her fingers as she teases him. Touching him just as gently as he's touched her. "What say you? Think you can-"

Marian breaks off with a sharp cry of surprise as Varric slips a finger into her with no warning. His fingers are thick and Marian's pleased to know that every dirty fantasy she's had about them are true as she rolls down to encourage him. It draws a laugh from Varric but she can see by the gleam in his eyes that her challenging needling has been accepted as he strokes his finger in and out of her.

"Careful, Marian," she shivers again at her name being used. Something Varric doesn't miss going by the wicked looking gleam in his eyes as he pulls out and slides two fingers in. Curling them both so they press against her inside and drag on the way out. Not nearly as thick as his cock, but Marian can wait just a bit as Varric presses against her clit a bit more firmly now with each move. Leaning down he breathes his next words against her breasts. "You keep challenging me like that and I'll ruin you for any other man."

"Promises," Marian tsks as she guides his head to one breast. Varric's talented tongue making her moan a little as he keeps the pace of his fingers up. She clamps down on his fingers hard, pointedly, and can feel the little noise of want he lets loose. His hands are nice, and Marian can think of several delightfully filthy things he can do with his tongue but she only wants one thing from Varric right now. "I'm hearing a lot of talk, but am feeling a distinct lack of your cock."

It's not the worst line she's ever used, but it's up there on the list of desperate lines she's used. Like all the others though, it works. It makes Varric laugh loudly but he still pulls his fingers out. He pulls on her arm and Marian curls up. Draping her arms over his shoulders as he pulls her into his lap. Their height difference nearly unnoticeable this way because it doesn't matter who Marian rides like this, she will always look down in this position.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're damned impatient?" Varric asks as he wraps one arm low around her back. The blunt head of his cock prods at her entrance and she shifts to push down. Feeling the way Varric holds himself still for her.

"You, all the time," Marian replies. Distracted by the feeling of him as she slides down. Wet and aching for it, but Varric is still large enough that she takes a few moments to adjust to him. Moving in a slow circle that makes her breath catch and Varric's hand clutch her tight.

"You never listen," Varric says. Voice thick as his other hand curls under her left thigh. Urging her to spread her legs out further until all her weight rests on him. Leaving her no choice but to feel and accept the hard cock spearing into her. "Fuck, Marian...."

She can feel the groan as much as hear it and that's familiar from too many nights at the Rose. Except there's no whore pulling it out of him this time. There's just her and Marian can't remember _why_ it'd been so damned important for them to not do this before.

Varric goes down easy at the prodding of her hands. Leaning back until he's stretched out on his back. His hands holding her around her waist and supporting her as she plants her hands on his chest and starts to slowly ride him.

He's thick and hard in the most delightful way, and Marian takes great pleasure in putting all her weight on him. Using the hands on his chest as leverage. Something she's had a few men she's bedded complain about, but that Varric doesn't even seem bothered by. Not if the way he moans her name is any indication.

"Fuck, Marian," Varric breathes out and snaps his hips up. The sharp movement meeting with the roll of her hips and making them both moan. Marian slightly louder when Varric moves one hand over enough to use his clever fingers again. Thumb rubbing over her clit in a rhythm she can almost follow. "Come on, open that pretty mouth of yours and let me _hear_ you."

The copper taste of blood leaks into her mouth and Marian realizes she's been biting the inside of her cheeks. Where it's already been split open by a badly timed dodge. She obliges Varric with a moan when she lets go. A high moan that echoes in the room and, she knows, through the walls. Not as thin as the Rose, but anyone choosing to stay up on the second floor is going to get an earful. More than that if Varric keeps doing what he's doing.

One day, she thinks she wants to do this nice and slow. Take her time with Varric and whiling away the hours of a day or two taking pleasure in each other. One day, but not this one. The battle still hovers to close to the edge of her thoughts to consider it.

"Ah, no," Marian manages to get out around another moan. She doesn't shy away from his hand but she changes her pace. Moving in a tight circular motion that moves his cock in and out of her quickly. Sacrificing that delicious depth she's been enjoying for a rapid pace that makes Varric's eyes roll back a little and curses fall from his lips. It makes her thighs burn with tiredness she would find insulting at any other time. "I'm not the only one who is going to be noisy tonight."

The moan is half laughter and all pleasure. Varric's supporting hand shifts and Marian gasps as she's pulled down hard. Sweat makes her hands braced against his chest slide a bit. Fingers pulling at the hair a bit, but any pain that might have caused doesn't seem to register for him.

Varric is nearly silent when he comes. A harsh exhale shakes its way up her arms from his chest. Only the feel of him inside her and the slack look of pleasure that comes over him clues her in, and Marian grins at the unexpected noiselessness. She'll tease him for it later, in front of the others when she can enjoy the banter from Isabela and the dark looks from Aveline. Or-

"Nnh!" Marian's thoughts fracture to nonsense under a careful assault of fingers. Varric is far too coherent for a man who has just come, and Marian cannot find fault with it as she keeps rolling her hips against him.

"Come on, beautiful," Varric murmurs. His voice thick and slow even as his hand isn't. Oh, not slow at all and Marian rocks in counterpoint. Digging her blunt fingernails into his chest as she chases down her own pleasure. "That's it. Let me hear you scream for me."

Varric's voice is a warm and living thing that wraps around her as firmly as the hand pressing against her lower back. Supporting as she arches back and _screams_. Louder than she needs to because he asked for it.

He's shaking with laughter he doesn't bother to quiet when Marian slumps down on him. She laughs along with him when an indistinct yell comes from _somewhere_. Her laughter is breathless and barely audible over her pants as her body still shivers, and she aware of just how sweaty they both are. The new sweat worked up by the sex only making what had dried from the fight that much more miserable, but Marian isn't thinking about that. Isn't thinking about misery of any kind as she focuses on the lazy pleasure curling through her.

Varric shifts her off him eventually. Careful until his soft cock slides free before he pulls her down to rest on his chest. Hands firm and not showing any sign of letting her get up and away. An urge she has out of habit and kicks aside because this isn't any of the men or women she's bedded for a night. There's no reason to roll to her feet and make her excuses as she slides out of the door. Nothing at all to stop her from simply lying there with her cheek on Varric's barrel chest and the fingers of her left hand tangled in his loose hair.

Mind blank of anything but the pleasant ache in her thighs that she knows will follow her through to the morning.

There's dried blood on her sheets. Dried blood and filthy and things she doesn't really want to think about. Bodahn would throw a fit except she'd sent him off with Sandal and Orana earlier than the dwarf wanted to get them all out of Kirkwall. Marian ignores the pang at the thought and settles down against Varric. Listening to the beat of his heart and the quickness of his breath that shows he's no closer to sleep than she is. She ignores it because she needs the moment to rest, to ignore the consequences they both know are coming.

It's enough for tonight that they are both alive.


End file.
